


exodus

by whenmelvinacries



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Forced Marriage, Historically incorrect, based on... you guessed it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-19 04:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenmelvinacries/pseuds/whenmelvinacries
Summary: Jihyo had always felt that, right after public duty, family was first. She was taught at a young age that the way her family had survived for generations was by leading the herd, guiding them to better choices and, thus, better futures for them and their descendants. Loyalty was one of the first things she had ever known.It didn’t do enough to quench the burning doubt, building at the top of her belly.





	exodus

**Author's Note:**

> hello, so this is also an incomplete story... i'm not sure if i'll ever continue, but enjoy ^^

It had been a few days since they had seen anything remotely edible.

They had come out of the land of Qingdao, with the hope and promises from their leader that they would be able to build their own nation to live freely and comfortably. But no such luck.

Days had turned into weeks, and weeks into months ‘til they knew that wherever they were being led to wasn’t the place they had been promised. Jihyo could see her parents argue in their tent late into the night, their angry voices interfering with any kind of sleep she could’ve had. They were angry, as everyone else she had seen in the camp the past few days, for that matter, and they were coming to dislike the man who had taken them out of Qingdao, where, while they had fewer privileges than resident Shurians, they still lived a good, honest, but simple life.

Jihyo had heard that some wanted to kill him and have someone else lead them, but they knew nothing about the land that they were surrounded with. Few Goryans had had the privilege to learn how to read maps, those little papyri that had the surrounding landscape depicted, and those who knew weren’t with them. They had decided to stay back at Qingdao to their already comfortable lives.

Others said that they rather disbelieved that their leader knew either where were they going. After all, they were not so numerous, just a few hundreds, and the land wasn’t all that spacious either. The land they were promised, as their leader had read for them in one map he had gotten from the Shurians, while fertile and precious, wasn’t that far from reach.

This discontent hadn’t been heard from weeks ago, but since their food supplies had ended, their pleas could be heard, and Jihyo was pretty sure their parents were the ones that had fueled that discontent. Having been leaders in the Goryan community back at Qingdao, she had learnt a thing or two of how they managed things.

Her parents were charismatic, and could easily persuade anyone with just about anything, and while they did care for their people, most times they looked for their own personal gain (or their family’s gain, if Jihyo went by her father’s remarks in the few conversations they had). Thus, it was no surprise to her that they were resentful of how this time the Goryans hadn’t listened to them when Kim Jongmin came to whisk them away to the land the gods had prepared for them.

But they always knew how to gain the upper hand.

Jihyo had decided to be of help to her parents by quietly walking with other people, making small, murmured remarks about her hunger, her tiredness, or her frustration, trying to pretend that it wasn’t her voicing out her equally big discontent to others, who have come to appreciate her as the daughter of two of their wise leaders back at Qingdao. They welcomed her remarks, voicing similar thoughts, which then were fueled by Jihyo with small, worried phrases.

“Oh, I hope your back gets better tonight. Mother has a little trick for back pain…”

“Are you too tired, halmeoni? I could carry some things for you. Oh, don’t worry. I’m young so I can resist more.”

“I’m so sorry for your son. Is there something I could do to help?”

And, at the end of their small conversation, she was met with words like,

“Oh, you are so kind. I hope you could lead the youth in the future like your parents have.”

“You know, I wish your father were the one leading us. He surely would’ve gotten us somewhere already.”

So by the time she came back to her walking parents, she was met with smiles, pride glinting in their eyes. After all, she was their parents’ daughter.

It would blow up soon, that she knew. And when that happened, her parents would gain the upper hand.

She would gain the upper hand.

\---

Kim Jongmin had been taken in the night, when the clamor of the people had risen like the sound of angry lions. He was sleeping, which gave more anger to the people that had taken him, and to the rest of the Goryans as they relayed what they had seen.

Everyone was constricted in a small area as they fought to hear clearly the words of their leader, who now questioned the man for his incomplete promises. He tried defending himself, saying that the gods would provide for them tomorrow, and that if that wasn’t the case, they could judge him again, but nobody heard. Instead, the crowd screamed again with no purpose other than to air their fury.

“Hear, oh Goryans. I, the same as you, have been following the promises of Jongmin, hoping that really the gods had heard our pleas to become a proud nation that could stand on its own feet, for we deserve that. But I, as you, have become disillusioned by our lack of direction and food that we have received instead. But we are no fools! We are the Goryans! Intelligent and resourceful. Strong and enduring. We shall then, judge him with the mercy he showed us when leading us here!”

The crowd yelled its approval. And by the next morning, Kim Jongmin’s corpse laid on the inhospitable desert, kilometers away from the thousands of Goryans who followed earnestly the Park family.

\--

The Parks, alongside everyone else, had been born in one of the lowest ranks of the social scale in Qingdao. However, Park Joonghyun, had been born in one of the leader families, whose heavy responsibility laid in answering for any Goryans’ actions, good or bad, in front of either the royal family or any other governor in their territory. He, as the first-born son, was taught quickly in age to adhere to his parents’ responsibilities, which would become his in time. It wasn’t difficult for him to learn, however, as he had great intelligence, and rapidly noticed charisma, which charmed even the most skeptical of their people.

He grew to lead them, usually just having to use his smooth words to appease any problem that could arise, since the Goryans, having lived in Qingdao for several decades, knew how to work and live in peace with the Shurians. He married to a fair lass, who, not only had beauty like non other on her side, but great cunning as well. They were looked upon by the rest of the Goryans, and Joonghyun knew that this was meant to continue to be, as long as his bloodline flourished in the time to come.

That is, until his first born came along.

Disappointment wasn’t something he felt when he got to take little Park Jihyo in his arms, nor resentment when her already big eyes widened, and a giggle resounded in their house.

No, this came later, when he and his wife realized that she could bear children no more. Jihyo wouldn’t be older than five when he already knew that his heir and only lineage would be a girl, a little and fragile baby girl.

Life is always full of surprises.

Despite everything, he did not falter in his dedication to teaching his daughter how to lead, and continue honoring their bloodline, hoping that at least when Jihyo became of age, she would marry a man deserving of their name.

Jihyo did so much more.

It filled him with wonder at the speed in which her daughter learned how to act like a Park. Her glib tongue and smart mind took her far, often stunning even the adults surrounding them, their neighbors showering her with praises. She would play go, often outsmarting Seo Kijoon, their ace when playing against people in the neighboring cities. When faced with news and knowledge coming from different lands, she took it, and used it to imagine ways to facilitate work for both him and his wife. Learning to hunt, having been interested in it at a young age, she, as a way to relax, would bring from outskirts of the city her hunt to her parents and even to some of their neighbors, who would often look at her with amazement.

He could not be more pleased, sure that the gods had made up for his wife’s inability to procreate, and that his daughter would continue their tradition.

Because she was a Park.

\--

Becoming the Goryans leader again didn’t make walking through the desert easy, as they were still far from any food source. However, a few days ago, Her father had decided to deviate a little from the path Kim Jongmin had marked for them, instead looking towards the river that figured in the map. They still didn’t arrive, but the small blotches of vegetation that started to appear gave away that they were close enough to their only hope for now.

Jihyo would be included in her parents talk about strategy, her father often asking her views on people’s mood, so as to be sure to talk to them in the right way, whether to persuade them to continue trusting them or dissuade them from leaving the tribe and fragmenting into smaller packs of people.

The reports were habitual, barely changing a word or two. Everyone was a little dissatisfied with the situation in general, but not with them. They wished to go back, but the many in the tribe acknowledged that it was impossible without humiliating themselves and lowering their status even more. The Governor had let them go with a smirk on his face, and it was obvious by his countenance what he expected.

“So, Jihyo, how long do you think people will resist?” her father asked pensively.

“Two days at most. Their water supplies are almost over, and, as you witnessed, there have been recent fights about the water distribution. Two men and another woman have fallen ill, and without even water to help, there’s not much to do,” Jihyo answered without even stopping to catch her breath, her expression as thoughtful as her parents’. Her father scratched his chin for  a moment while gazing at the map in middle of the tent.

“If my calculations are not wrong, we will arrive to the river in a day, perhaps at nighttime.” Her father clenched his jaw, a sign of his desperation, which Jihyo understood well. Although her parents and she had some knowledge about maps, they had not much clue about where exactly they were walking towards. As before stated, there existed some signs, but for a century or so they had lived at Qingdao, and left the nomadic lifestyle a little before that. If that wasn’t enough, surely other kingdoms should be aware of their exodus out of Qingdao and into the wilderness, and perhaps expected them with not the best of intentions.

“Changing direction won’t be a wise decision at this point. This will continue to be the course of the plan. If there’s any changes in the people’s mood, you shall tell me. That is all.” Jihyo nodded her agreement and left her parents tent into her own, not before checking on the people next to her tent.

“What has your father told you?” Im Seokin, their years-long neighbor asked her as the rest of his family entered the tent.

“We shall reach the river tomorrow at nighttime.” The man’s eyes brightened a little at the information, but he suppressed any expression. It didn’t stop Jihyo from noticing his eyes. “Good night, Mister Im.” And she walked calmly to her own tent, expecting a restful night of sleep. What she didn’t expect was Mr Im’s eldest daughter, Im Nayeon, entering her tent a few minutes after her head rested on the dirt.

“Good night, unnie,” Jihyo regarded respectfully raising up to sit on her knees.

“Listen, I need a favor.” Im Nayeon had also been her neighbor for the entirety of her life, a full 2 years older than her. They had never shared more than a few words, though, to be honest, this statement applied to any other person that was close to her age or younger.

“What do you need?” Jihyo asked carefully, not knowing if she should make herself sound non-commital or worried.

“Dad hasn’t wanted to talk about it with your dad, but my sister has been ill for quite a while, and the medicine man said that what she needs is some salt solution.”

“So?” Nayeon exhaled through her nose, probably exasperated.

“Could you give a bit for our sister?” the raven-haired girl asked.

“You should take that matter with my father. I don’t really have much to help you with.”

“Your father has been rationing it extremely, and we don’t know if he will give us more than the normal dosage.”

“Then I can’t help you. If my father decided not to give you more, it’s for a good reason. Supplies are scarce, and rationing them is our only option.”

“My sister might die,” Nayeon exclaimed harshly, grabbing her shoulders in a vice grip. “S-she definitely needs this.”

“Look,” Jihyo answered, not losing her composure despite the alarm she felt at Nayeon’s sudden actions. “We’ll reach the river in a day, and the medicine man might make more salt solution then. If your sister can stand the whole day, then she will be okay.”

“Please.” Nayeon’s eyes bore into her, her face twisting into something more desperate, her orbs filled with a combination of anger and anguish. Jihyo’s indifference to this family had always been palpable to her, but the girl’s desperate pleas made her melt, if only a little. However, she also reasoned that there was no reason to give special treatment to this girl and her family. Although her father and Mr Im had been friends for quite a while, her father had always made a point of never treating the Im family as anything special, lest the rest of the Goryans listen rumors of unfairness. News always traveled fast, and discontent was quick to arise in the conditions they were living at the moment.

“Let’s do this,” Jihyo said, “I wish to see your sister as well to talk to your father. If I deem it urgent enough I’ll talk to my father about it, but if not, your family will have to wait like the rest until tomorrow.” The girl stood up as soon as she heard the words and ran out of the tent, Jihyo following behind, grabbing her arm. “Please be careful.”

Jihyo’s face contorted when they entered the tent, the pungent smell of death radiating throughout the place. At one corner of it laid Nayeon’s sister, her parents tending to her, standing up quickly when they saw her enter alongside Nayeon.

“Miss Jihyo, what brings you to our tent?” Seokin asked nervously.

“Your daughter has told about me about Soyeon’s condition.” At her words, the man stiffened, sending a glare in Nayeon’s direction, who sent him one of her own.

“Jihyo said promised that she’ll get salt solution for Soyeon,” Nayeon explained, seemingly not interested in appeasing her father.

“If Soyeon is in bad conditions, then I’ll try talking with my father and the medic,” Jihyo corrected, standing still while eyeing the man.

“Oh, that’s not necessary, thank you, Jihyo,” the man answered, a slight tone of resignation in his voice. “We’ll wait for the medic to come.”

“He hasn’t come to you?” Jihyo raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Nayeon, who had the decency to at least blush at her own lie.

“No, there has been some other cases of illness within the group, so I told him to visit us last.” Jihyo nodded pensively, finally taking a decision.

“Could you let me see your daughter for a minute?” The man paused, but then nodded, motioning for her to enter entirely into the tent. She closed on the girl, who was being tended by their mother. Her expression contorted again when she finally understood why the pungent odor permeated the tent.

The girl’s face was white as a sheet of paper, her lips purple, in her arm a huge gash.

“Good night, Jihyo,” the mother, Dayoung, greeted. Jihyo greeted back, still looking at the girl.

“This… this can’t be cured with just salt solution. What happened?”

“Soyeon, the little imp, ran a little far from us, and was attacked by a strange animal.”

“Salt solution could be useful for her wound, but she’d need something else,” Jihyo commented, then added, “I’ll try and ask the medic to come as soon as possible.”

“No, no. That’s fine,” Seokin said hurriedly. “It’s fine if he comes by later.”

“Are you sure?” Jihyo said more kindly, hoping to get out of the tent as fast as she could, as the pungent odor was starting to make her eyes water.

“Yes. There are other people with other ailments that’ll probably make better use of the medic.”

“Very well. Then I’m leaving now. Good night, Mister Im,” she said, bowing to everyone in the tent. She breathed in relief when she left the tent, not just because of the loom of death inside the tent, but because of the immediate fight between Im Nayeon and her father as soon as she stepped outside the tent.

Well, whatever Mister Im decided to do with his family wasn’t her business.

\--

“What?” Jihyo exclaimed, her face contorted in shock, unable to completely grasp what her father was suggesting.

“It is what it is, Jihyo. According to our scouts, there’s ambushes waiting for us at the river, probably coming from neighboring pillaging tribes. We have no protection. The morale is low. We need something that can boost the spirit, that will make people more open to the idea of fighting for our tribe.”

“I know, but... You’ve never done anything like this before,” Jihyo replied, trying to tie her hair. Her father, the voice of gods? Of a god? Her father had never believed once in any deity, despite the widespread belief in many throughout different lands aside from Qingdao.

“You saw how easily the people believed the words of that fool,” her mother explained. “They were motivated, they were steadfast in their belief that the gods had prepared something special for them, and that gave them strength, until that fool’s death.”

“Exactly. He died, out of the people’s discontent. What happens when we can’t uphold our promises to the people? They’ll kill us too.”

“No, my dear Jihyo,” her father explained with a gentleness that only told her that he was resolute to follow his plan. “What Jongmin did was offer them too much too quickly, and when they didn’t receive their promised land as quickly as the promise itself, anger and discontent grew. He filled their heads with extravagant promises that he could never follow up. But he had the right idea. The correct way to handle them,” he took a breath, “is to give them a reason to live, to fight, something that will make them feel special, one of a kind, chosen by the almighty gods to be led to greatness. You don’t have to promise much, just give them positive incentives to follow your orders. Our orders.”

Jihyo hummed, the idea already making more sense in her head. “But so suddenly? Are they sure to believe you?”

“Not everything is sudden. I’ve been giving this idea a thought for a while, and while I thought about it, I started planting seeds on certain people. I’m sure by now those seeds have spread throughout the whole camp by now. It’s time to set this plan on motion.”

Jihyo nodded at her father’s last words before she left the tent.

__Jihyo, you know what to do._ _

\--

It was a miracle they were alive.

Her father had given a great speech, saying that in his dreams, the great god Ohshim had appeared and spoken to him, telling him that he had become their protector during their travel. Jihyo had tuned out most of the conversation, focusing on rubbing her aching temple. The only thing that returned her to reality was the overwhelming sound of a collective roar, not unlike a beast’s.

As her father had predicted, it had given them more incentive to fight, and to offer to go with her father and fight the tribe waiting for them at the river.

Still, it was true that the said tribe were more numerous, and quite stronger too. They had sizable losses, and as she assisted the dead count, she did her best to stop the shiver running up her spine.

They had killed their enemies and taken their belongings, to then guide the rest of the Goryans to the river.

Jihyo had imagined a more relief-filled occasion, but most people within the tribe were mourning someone, and their arrival to a source of water and (looted) supplies had been bittersweet.

By nighttime, their were burying them ceremoniously, her father solemnly conveying a message of hope for the tribe and farewell for the deceased. Jihyo fretted inside, despite her own stoic expression, even at the sight of Im Nayeon weeping silently for her gone father and sister.

Had it been worth it? For the first time, she felt lost.

\--

Jihyo had always felt that, right after public duty, family was first. She was taught at a young age that the way her family had survived for generations was by leading the herd, guiding them to better choices and, thus, better futures for them and their descendants. Loyalty was one of the first things she had ever known.

It didn’t do enough to quench the burning doubt, building at the top of her belly.

Her entire family had rested on power they knew to be volatile, easily given, easily taken. As such, they always had to have some measure, strategy to always assure them a place of respect, of human reverence among their people. It was difficult, then, to get drunk on the power her father now had over their people.

Jihyo didn’t believe her father completely gone, but she had started to see cracks in her father’s otherwise calm, composed, calculating demeanor. The look in his eyes when someone almost worshiped him or her mother made her shiver, in fear or disgust, she didn’t know.

She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it before, but now, it was a whole different story.

Because her father didn’t want to marry Jihyo to a man. Her father wanted her to marry another woman, the Shen tribe leader’s daughter, to be exact.

She wasn’t too disappointed on the prospect of never marrying a man, having never felt any sense of romance or familial duty in the same sense many women did. Never able to empathize with giggling girls looking at the boys bathing on the nearby river, she had actually felt quite pleased at the thought of never entertaining a man or, what’s more, bearing children for him.

Nor her opposition came from marrying a woman. Unheard of? Yes. Scandalous? Absolutely. Still, she couldn’t care less, aside from the annoyance that came with the thought of dividing her time to attend to a spouse.

No, her bafflement came from the inability to understand her father’s reasoning behind his actions. What kind of benefit would it bring them to have such a scandalous happening? It wouldn’t do more than to give reasons to neighboring kingdoms or tribes to try and attack them, reducing them to ashes, to death, where power or rank wouldn’t serve any purpose at all. The Shen tribe was small, lacking severely in manpower and anything valuable at all. Living in the middle of the dessert didn’t help matters in the slightest.

But it didn’t matter. Her father had announced her marriage to the entirety of their own tribe, equating her to a man, saying it was Ohshim’s wish to have her continue his bloodline in purity.

The people? Ate it right up. The Shen leader? Seemed to be okay with it, perhaps through workings with her father she wasn’t told of, which baffled her even more. The leader’s daughter? That she didn’t know. She probably already knew, and either she was disgusted with the arrangement, or she was tolerating it as much as she could. Either way, it wasn’t Jihyo’s business, because disregarding her objections, the deal was sealed, and she was bound to marry Chou Tzuyu.

She could rebel, of course she could, but what good would it do? It would only divide people, making them weaker against any kind of threat they could encounter in the future.

And perhaps her father knew this, and worked it for his advantage.

\--

The Shen’s daughter was beautiful.

She had heard rumors in the two weeks of preparation they’d had for the wedding (along with the not rare exclamations of disappointment over her not being a maiden anymore), but she had paid them no mind, aside from the occasional stray thought. She’d been rather busy still arguing with her father over his strange choices, been given no other explanation other than, “It’s better to have more people at our side, no matter the size of said throng,” which made her feel no peace at all, as the Shen tribe was smaller than theirs.

Now that they were looking at each other, face to face, she couldn’t help but gasp at such beauty she’d never seen before.

Both were dressed with each other traditional wedding garments (she in the Shen traditional male garments), as a symbol of the union between their distinct cultures, both surrounded by the ceremonial sash, she couldn’t help but think about what would her future be, with an spouse at her side. She could only hope they could get along well, that, at some point, they could help each other with their own people.

The man kept repeating the ceremonial chanting, when the girl, Chou Tzuyu, met her eyes, uncharacteristically making her duck her head, a small blush dusting her cheeks. What was wrong with her, blushing like a young maiden?

“Oh’re,” she repeated, and heard a soft, but strong voice chant it as well.

It was over.

\--

The last rites of marriage were blessing their resting tent, filling it with wishes of fruitfulness, which were useless in their case, but tradition was tradition, and they couldn’t escape it either, regardless of their peculiar arrangement.

Now, Jihyo laid on the tending, right next to her new wife, her stomach now filled with nerves. It was definitely a new sensation of uncertainty, far less urgent than that felt at the pangs of hunger and isolation, but still completely unsettling.

Jihyo hadn’t wanted to speak, despite having much to say, hoping to gauge the situation by Tzuyu’s first words to her. Only, Tzuyu hadn’t said much either, submerging both of them in an awkward air that only existed between two strangers expected not to act like it.

Long time passed (or, at least, to an always rushing Jihyo, it seemed like it) until the younger girl opened her mouth.

“Are you planning to never look at my face?” the girl asked blithely, making Jihyo turn her head towards her.

“Pardon?”

“You’ve been avoiding my face since the wedding. Are you that repulsed by me? Am I not of your liking?” The questions sounded sad, bordering on pitiful, but the voice uttering them was anything but. It was, instead, filled with mirth, its owner’s eyes tinkling with a mix of mocking and anger, throwing Jihyo for a loop.

“Uh-No. It’s just that I don’t know what to do. It is a quite peculiar situation,” Jihyo answered with a neutral tone, slowly savoring her words, hoping it would be calming enough for the girl’s underlying anger.

“If it is a ‘peculiar situation’, why did you even agree to this in the first place?” she questioned, the full-on anger her eyes reflected now seeping in her tone.

“Marrying was the best course for my people,” Jihyo answered without hesitation, keeping her own reservations about the marriage deep inside.

“What did I expect? You are just like them,” she sneered, standing up immediately.

Jihyo clenched her jaw, feeling unexpectedly insulted at her words, but said nothing, knowing that whatever could come out of her mouth now would be anything but conciliatory.

“You are just like them, selfish, only looking for your own benefit and no one else’s.”

“That is not true. You do not know the whole circumstances surrounding this marriage,” she answered with the most tranquil voice her insides could muster; even then, her voice came out quite harsh.

“I don’t?” Tzuyu asked in challenge, to then deflate quickly, as if in realization. “Whether I know or not, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. There’s no going back anymore.”  She closed her eyes. “I’m not feeling well. I’ll take a breath.”

Jihyo could only gape at the tent’s opening long after Tzuyu left, wondering in what moment had she been that insane to think the other girl would be completely at ease with it.

\--

After their small argument, there hadn’t been a peep of anger showing on Tzuyu’s face. In fact, there hadn’t been a peep of any emotion on Tzuyu’s face, only neutral compliance at the moments they had to share together, which were many, considering they were now wives, and had the same expectations as any other couple.

If she were to take from her own understanding of men, she thought that for many of them, it would be a perfect example of a wife, but for Jihyo, it was torture.

Thinking about it, it was bearable to deal with the younger girl’s indifference when they were surrounded by other people, but at the loneliness of their own tent, it was hell. The silent despair seeped into her skin.

What could she do to gap the bridges? What could she say? Despite running every scenario in her head, she couldn’t find anything that could possibly calm the girl, or at least make her more agreeable to their own permanent situation.

Her head thought about different phrases with its different scenarios, but nothing seemed to really serve her purpose, specially because she had no idea about who Chou Tzuyu was. She could not appease her the same way she could appease other people.

The only option was to speak, no calculations, no thoughtful scenarios, and the idea rattled her. But there wasn’t much to do. The tent only got smaller and there were less places to run away to.

“Tzuyu,” she said as the aforementioned girl changed into her nightwear, at the other side of the tent.

“Yes. Is there something you need?” Jihyo still bristled at the neutral tone, the only tone she’d ever heard since.

“I need...” she licked her lips, “I need to talk to you about something important.”

“What is it?”

“I...I,” and she lost courage. “I was wondering if you know about the fighting style your tribe uses.”

“Our tribe,” Tzuyu remarked quietly, making Jihyo’s face feel hot. “Yes, throughout our time living in the desert, we’ve created a fighting style without swords.”

“Without... swords?” Jihyo asked, feeling skeptical about it, but reminded herself that the Shen tribe had survived without needing an immense kingdom to protect them. Tzuyu hummed.

“And are you knowledgeable about it?” For the first time in ever, a small, albeit reluctant, smile peeked through Tzuyu’s lips.

Yes.


End file.
